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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27121688">All Dressed Up</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Introvertia/pseuds/Introvertia'>Introvertia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>13 Days of Halloween [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stranger Things (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>13 Days of Halloween Writing Challenge, M/M, Underage Drinking, billy lives, one word prompt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:21:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,716</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27121688</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Introvertia/pseuds/Introvertia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Billy get locked in the basement but that won't stop them from enjoying their evening, or each other.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>13 Days of Halloween [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1995811</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>All Dressed Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This short piece was inspired by the fabulous Gothringwald's 13 Days of Halloween Prompt List. </p><p>Prompt word 2:<br/>Costume</p><p>This is the second of several short Harringrove fics I will be posting daily between now and Halloween. I hope to do all 13! They can be read on their own or in order like a serial.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>October 8th, 1986</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Part 1</b>
</p><p>
  <b>The Basement</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The basement’s lingering heavy scent of damp concrete, sharp laundry detergent and dry dust hit Steve in the face when he opened the door. He flicked on the light and the single bulb above the stairwell winked awake. He took the stairs two at a time. He needed a costume, but he didn’t want to wear something goofy, and he couldn’t really afford something cool, like a flight suit, one day he was going to dress up as Maverick from Top Gun. His grandfather’s trunk was in the basement and Steve needed it.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh shit!” Steve exclaimed halfway down the stairs.</p><p> </p><p>He spun on his heel and ran back up the stairs. He reached out his hand and caught the door stopping it mid swing, inches from getting him locked in the basement.</p><p> </p><p>“That was close,” Steve’s heart was racing, “Not this time you don’t.” Steve said to the door. Steve looked around for the doorstop, the a cast-iron mouse that sat on a wedge of cheese, was missing.</p><p> </p><p>“Where’s Mrs Frisby?” Steve asked the air.</p><p>
  
</p><p>His mom had purchased the doorstop when they went to Massachusetts in the summer of 1977. While his father was at some business conference in Boston. Steve’s mother had dragged him to Salem to see the historical sights. Steve had found it super boring. The highlight had been when went into a tourist gift shop and he’d found the doorstop. He’d immediately wanted it, because it reminded him of Mrs Frisby from the book. The cashier had told him in a very serious tone that iron warded off evil spirits, it had made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Some small part of Steve believed that Mrs Frisby kept evil out of the basement, she also kept the door from shutting which was important because it always got stuck, especially when the weather started getting colder.</p><p> </p><p>Steve went into the kitchen, but she wasn’t there. Steve checked the time and realized that Billy would be there any minute. It had taken days of hinting and then straight out asking Billy to go with him to the Fall Festival. If Steve wasn’t ready when Billy got there he might back out. Billy had changed his mind about going once already and that had taken a ton of charm and persuasion to get him to agree to it a second time. Now Steve was worried that he’d talked it up too much and Billy was going to hate him for making him go.</p><p> </p><p>“Shit!” Steve said looking at his watch.</p><p> </p><p>Steve grabbed a news paper that had been abandoned on the kitchen table and folded it into quarters and wedged it under the basement door, and then zipped down the stairs a second time. His grandfather’s chest was in the far corner, just to the right of his parent’s wine rack. Steve crouched down and flipped open the chest and found exactly what he was looking for.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Part 2</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Trapped Like Rats</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Billy cut through the wooded area behind Steve’s house. The leaves and pine needles hissed and snapped under his feet, a stiff wind showered pine needles down on Billy. He looked up at the tall and leaning trees, he could see where their branches reaching out but never quite touching. Each tree created its unique crown of spindly twigs reaching up for the slate grey sky.</p><p> </p><p>Sometimes Billy got a little creeped out walking through the woods. He paused long enough to light a cigarette. He checked the time on his watch, he was going to be late, he wondered if he could talk Steve out of the two of them going to the Festival, but he knew Steve had his heart set, for whatever reason. Steve had even insisted they dress up.</p><p> </p><p>Some branches crackled in the distance and Billy jumped when a engine backfired, the sound had to be coming from pretty far off but it was enough to startle him.</p><p> </p><p>“Creepy fuckin’ woods, lame-ass backwoods-shit-hole-town.” Billy grumbled.</p><p>The woods were truly the best way to get around town without being seen. Steve had shown him several short cuts over the last few days.</p><p> </p><p>Almost daily over the past week Steve would meet Billy at the back of the Bountiful Bakery when his shift ended,and then they’d walk to Billy’s apartment, or sometimes Steve’s house if Billy said he didn’t have any food at his house.</p><p> </p><p>Billy walked down the slope and onto the Harrington’s property, around the covered pool and stopped to crush his cigarette out in a coffee can that was tucked behind a potted plant. As promised the sliding glass door was unlocked. Billy stepped in silently as a ghost. He didn’t think Steve’s parents were home but he sure as hell didn’t want to run into one of them. Billy walked into the kitchen and looked around and poked his head in the hall, and saw the door to the basement was open, Billy shuddered. That door was usually closed. Billy felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise.</p><p> </p><p>“Steve?” Billy said, his voice barely above a whisper, then again standing at the top of the stairs “Steve?”. He rested his hand on the doorknob wanting something to hold onto. The steep narrow stairs looked like ordinary plain worn wooden steps, but they made his heart skip a beat. “Steve?” He said for a third time. Billy leaned forward, still holding onto the doorknob.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m down here, be right up.” Steve yelled from the basement.</p><p> </p><p>Billy exhaled a long breath and rushed down the stairs, his eyes squinted, afraid of what he might see, he nearly walked right into Steve. Billy blinked rapidly, and looked at what Steve was wearing, and did a double take.</p><p> </p><p>“I was about to come up.” Steve smiled adjusting his grandfather’s garrison cap on his head. “It fits! isn’t that wild? This is my grandad’s old army uniform, I thought I’d wear it to the festival. What’dya think?”</p><p> </p><p>“Weird.” Billy blurted.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” Steve looked down at his chest, “I’m a first lieutenant or maybe a sergeant? He told me once, I can’t remember what all these strips and patches mean."</p><p> </p><p>“Like a grown up.” Billy muttered as he stepped forward and touched the shoulder of the olive drab woolen jacket, his fingers went over the pins on the lapels.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t really have any cash to spend on a costume.” Steve said.</p><p> </p><p>“This is good.” Billy said slowly, his eyes roving over Steve in the uniform, “these here mean he served overseas.” Billy stroked a patch on the left forearm of the jacket.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.” Steve smiled looking at the stripes and then back at Billy.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>SLAM!</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>Billy and Steve jumped at the sound of the basement door closing. Billy turned to look up the stairs.</p><p> </p><p>Steve stepped around him and ran up the steps, cursing all the way. “Shit, shit, shit.” Steve grabbed the doorknob and turned it, and tugged at it. “Yep, it’s stuck.”</p><p> </p><p>“We’re trapped?” Billy asked, his voice pitching up.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, I’m not going to kick it down, my parents will lose their minds if I break the door.”</p><p><br/>
Billy swallowed, and nodded, he could feel needles prickling his skin, “Yeah, if I broke a door my old man would skin me alive.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, well I mean. They’d just take away my driving privileges again.” Steve came down the stairs, Billy looked a little pale.</p><p> </p><p>“So, I thought you were gonna dress up.” He rested his hand on Billy’s shoulder and gently squeezed.</p><p> </p><p>“I did.” Billy pulled a small silver water pistol out of his back pocket and unfolded a pillow case that had been tucked in the pouch of his hoodie.</p><p> </p><p>“What are you supposed to be?” Steve chuckled.</p><p> </p><p>Billy rolled down his beanie over his face, it was a balaclava, his bright blue eyes and full lips were all that were showing of his face. “I’m a bank robber.” Billy flipped the empty pillow case over, he’d drawn giant dollar sign on it.</p><p> </p><p>Steve smiled, “That’s pretty clever Hargrove.”</p><p> </p><p>Billy rolled his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not being sarcastic!” Steve said quickly.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s just easier if people don’t know it’s me. They get all weird and stare.” Billy twisted the pillow case in his hands.</p><p> </p><p>“I know, you know what? We don’t have to go, I’ll make some popcorn, and we can hangout in my room tonight.”</p><p> </p><p>Billy reached up and peeled back the balaclava from his face looking at Steve. “You said you wanted to go, I can suck it up for an hour or whatever.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not if you’re gonna be miserable.” Steve said.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re going.” Billy announced, “One ride, one game, and you get your hot cider.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s a deal.” Steve smiled, “Unless we’re trapped in here all night. Steve sighed, “Sometimes mom meets dad over at the country club and they have dinner, and stay for dancing. It’s not a live band or anything, usually just some geezer with a crate full of records from the sixties.”</p><p> </p><p>“No shit.” Billy shook his head amused. The feeling of dread that had almost seeped into his skin seemed was vanishing like mist the more he listened to Steve ramble.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh yeah it’s a whole thing. Friday nights at the Hawkins Heights Country Club, ooh-la-la!” Steve wiggled his fingers, "They have drinking and dancing, mom usually has something pink, or green, dad likes scotch.” Steve paced a little, “I mean, it could be worse. At least the light works and there’s not like, rats or anything, and you know, this is no ordinary basement. It’s actually my parents wine cellar. Ta-da!” Steve waved his arms in the direction of the wine rack. “But I don’t have a wine opener.”</p><p> </p><p>Billy looked around the room, it was actually very tidy for a basement, and in fact, very not spooky, aside from there being only a single bulb to illuminate the room.</p><p> </p><p>“Why’s it so clean down here?” Billy got up and walked over to the wine rack and looked at all the bottles.</p><p> </p><p>Steve shrugged and he reached up adjusted his hat, “All dressed up and nowhere to go.” He sat down on the chest that had been his grandfather’s and leaned back on the heels of his hands watching Billy tap the bottles.</p><p> </p><p>“Let’s try this one.” Billy pulled out a dusty looking bottle, he ran his hand over the label, “This is French. You think 1949 was a good year?”</p><p> </p><p>“What are you going to do smash it open?” Steve asked.</p><p> </p><p>“No. Watch and learn pretty boy.” Billy pulled out his pocket knife and unfolded it. He sat down next to Steve on the chest and set the bottle between his knees.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you going to push the cork in?” Steve asked tilting his head.</p><p> </p><p>“Nope.” Billy ran the blade along the neck, the foiled paper peeled away easily. He turned the bottle upright and slid the point of his knife into the cork and then folded it into a right angle, and slowly turned it. With patience and time the cork began easing up.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>No</em> way.” Steve said watching the cork slowly twist upward.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes way.” Billy said with a smirk. He gripped the end of the cork with his index and thumb and and it mad a soft pop when it slid free. Billy held it out to Steve. “Bottoms up, Harrington.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Part 3</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Time in a Bottle</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Steve and Billy took turns taking long drinks from the wine bottle. A second bottle was opened, this time by Steve, using Billy’s technique.By the time Steve finished the last of the second bottle, his cheeks were flushed and his bottom lip was tinged purple.</p><p> </p><p>“Your lips are stained.” Steve said pointing at Billy.</p><p> </p><p>Billy smiled, “Yeah, yours too a little, right there.”</p><p> </p><p>Billy reached over and poked Steve in the bottom lip and they both laughed. Steve pushed Billy’s hand away, but Billy just jabbed him in the stomach with his index finger.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey!” Steve batted Billy’s hand away.</p><p> </p><p>“What? Whatcha gonna do about it?” Billy was laughing, he menaced Steve with his index finger and then poked him in the ribs with the opposite hand.</p><p> </p><p>“OwI I see how it is!” Steve lunged forward and grappled Billy off the side of the trunk they’d been sitting on. Billy rolled on top of Steve and pinned his wrists above his head.</p><p> </p><p>“Looks like I’m top dog.” Billy smiled.</p><p> </p><p>“Only because I let you.” Steve shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah right.” Billy said shaking his head.</p><p>Steve sighed, he considered curling up, maybe closing his knees around Billy ribs, twisting sideways, if he did it fast enough he could twist his wrists free, but Billy’s eyes were sparkling. His balaclava that had been perched on his head had slid off and his wild curls were loose and falling around his face in a messy mop.</p><p> </p><p>“Your hair’s getting long again.” Steve said looking at Billy’s dirty blonde locks.</p><p> </p><p>Billy nodded. He’d kissed Steve twice before, the first time he’d kissed him awake like Steve was Snow White. The second time Steve had really been the one to kiss him, it had been brief and chaste. Billy had wanted to kiss Steve again, but hadn’t had the courage.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>If not now when? Your life isn’t waiting for you, it’s passing you by, you have to take chances.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Living in fear won’t keep bad things from happening.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Billy looked down at Steve’s lips, his therapists words were haunting him. Who gave that guy the right? Billy wondered.</p><p> </p><p>Steve parted his lips slowly, wondering if Billy might kiss him, he’d done it before, but that had been days and days ago, it felt like a life time. Steve slowly stretched his arms upward, Billy held on to Steve’s wrists, and was slowly coming closer. Steve’s heart sped up, he extended his arms as far as they would go, as long as Billy held on to Steve’s wrists, his lips were getting closer to Steve’s. Steve closed his eyes and parted his lips a little more drawing in a sharp breath, he could feel Billy’s breath on his face, warm and steady, bitter sweet with the scent of wine.</p><p> </p><p>Billy closed his eyes and parted his lips over Steve’s, he laid his body flush against Steve’s long frame. Billy’s body felt hot with blood and wine, Steve’s mouth was wet and velvety warm. Billy moaned into the kiss, pressed a knee up against Steve’s hip. Steve arched and leaned into the kiss, and folded his legs into Billy’s.</p><p> </p><p>They kissed long and slow. Steve felt trapped in the most delicious way possible and the soft sounds that Billy made when kissing him were driving him crazy.</p><p> </p><p>There was rattle and a creaking sound coming from the top of the stairs. The door at the stop of the stairs opened spilling light down into the dimly lit basement.</p><p> </p><p>“Honey, where’s Mrs Frisby?” Mrs Harrington’s question was directed at her husband.</p><p> </p><p>Billy pulled from the kiss and looked at Steve.</p><p> </p><p>“Mom’s home.” Steve said. Steve released a giggled and Billy put his hand over his mouth, and then chuckled himself.</p><p> </p><p>“The doorstop, Richard, where’s the doorstop?” Mrs Harrington was talking to her husband, her voice carried with clarity all the way down the stairs. “I’m going to get a bottle of Pinot, can you find the doorstop? This door always sticks.”</p><p> </p><p>Steve and Billy rushed up the stairs giving Steve’s mother a fright.</p><p> </p><p>“Here’s a Pinot.” Billy said handing her a bottle.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh! Steve, were you two stuck down there?” Mrs Harrington stepped back holding the wine, looking a little startled.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, crazy right?” Steve said as they walked across the kitchen towards the sliding doors.</p><p> </p><p>“Hi Mrs. Harrington.” Billy mumbled, his eyes dancing with mirth.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re going to the festival.” Steve announced.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, hello.” She nodded at Billy and then turned her attention back to Steve. “Are you wearing your grandfather’s uniform?” Steve’s mother asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah! Fits great. Gotta go!” Steve shoved Billy out the back door and they ran for the woods.</p><p> </p><p>“One ride, one game, and one hot apple cider!” Steve crowed as he grabbed Billy’s hand and they ran to the festival drunk and giddy.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! Comments and questions are always welcome!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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